Chapter 5: Repent
It never got better, never got any easier, never gave him the reprieve Father William hoped that ending things with Buffy would give him. In fact, it only solidified his worst fears: that he’d fallen in love with his eighteen-year-old student. A student, by all intents and purposes should never have been touched in the first place. But she had been and no amount of guilt or remorse over the fact made his feelings go away. No amount of prayer, fasting or repentance could wash the stench of his perversion away from his skin. The more he thought about it, thought about her, the more he felt that maybe it wasn’t so perverted. Of course, those thoughts led to the arousing memories and just how sordid things had become between them, but he could tell by the look in her eyes, the way she trembled even more when he was tender that maybe what they shared transcended sex and sin. There was such a silent communication between them, a perfect understanding that many times he wouldn’t have to utter a word. She just knew.
But how could she? She was so young, just a child, really. While she might have felt like her shoes were bigger than her feet at times, William knew that all teenagers had a sense of invincibility, a feeling that they knew everything. But maybe she was mature enough, maybe. In fact, he almost laughed that no matter how intimately he knew her, he didn’t really know her as a lover should and he hadn’t really taken the time to find out more, save the things he’d observed over the years. He knew that her parents were rich republicans who treated Buffy more like an ornament than a member of their family, that Buffy had had multiple sex partners, that she was eighteen and was horrible in Math. He knew her class schedules, knew that she chewed on her pencil when she was taking a test, that she always smelled fantastic, and a few other seemingly unimportant things that were suddenly becoming very important. Everything else he knew revolved around her body, her innermost desires and whatever analysis he could sum up from those very things. She wanted pain, wanted to be punished. For what, he didn’t know and maybe she only wanted it because it was the only way to connect to him. Perhaps she thought that William needed to work out his frustrations on her and she was a willing participant in his own dark therapy.
Aside from the obvious, though, aside from the pleasure wrought with pain from their intercourse, William focused more on the little things he’d come to learn from her. The way her mouth would part in a silent cry if he kissed her neck. The way her skin felt beneath his hands. How she’d suck her bottom lip into her mouth and smile when she was about to do something devious. How her skin would flush when she was climaxing. The green of her eyes, the smell of her neck, the tiny blonde hairs on her lower back, and the sleepy moans she emitted when she came down. He couldn’t get her out of his system, couldn’t forget, couldn’t stop wanting her. Seeing her daily was a test of restraint for both of them.
It bothered him how she struggled to look at anything but him during English class, how sad she appeared to be, the lack of effort in her appearance and the quiet tenor of her voice should he call on her to answer a question during a lecture. It was heartbreaking. In a few days, the school would close for winter break. He wondered what Buffy’s plans were. All of the students would be sent home for a month to spend with their families over Christmas, and he and the nuns could stay at the school to maintain the grounds, should they not have previous engagements. William was offered to go to New York for a lecture on faith, with paid room and board should he want to speak, but his heart wasn’t in it. Wasn’t in anything, really. He could visit his family if he wanted, but that wasn’t appealing either. However, the thought of staying alone in the school for so long without any distractions seemed too depressing. Whatever he decided to do, it would be far away from this place. He had plenty of money saved, his father had seen to that once he made his vows. William had protested, stating that he didn’t need money. He had the Lord. His father had laughed and insisted that he take it for an emergency. Perhaps his father knew that William might not be a man of the cloth for very long.
He was exhausted, tired of keeping up appearances, pretending to speak the words during Mass: it was more robotic at this point and lacked the passion he felt years ago when he made the leap of faith to become a priest. He knew that eventually, he would have to end it or go on the same way, having his soul slowly sucked away with every amen.
The only thing that brought him the tiniest bit of happiness was Buffy. If he’d only kept his emotions in line, if he’d only kept her as a willing sex partner instead of mooning and pining over her every second of every day, perhaps she’d be in his office right now, riding his cock and making those sweet sounds as she squeezed him into oblivion. But he’d royally fucked up by opening the window to his heart, showing her what he needed. He never should have taken it there, never should have made himself seem vulnerable. It was a mistake because in doing so, he realized that she wanted it, too. She needed the tenderness, the love and adoration that he was all too willing to give her. But if he crossed that line with her, there was no turning back. Admitting his love for her would mean that William would finally have to make a decision, one that was painful to admit. He would have to leave the church. But what then? Where would he go from there? Would he get another job teaching at a public school? Did he even want that? And even if he were to land a job, what of Buffy? She still had another semester of school left and it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to stay with him. What if she wanted to go to college? Meet boys and fuck a football team, sow her oats abroad, who knows? Was it fair to ask her that? Was it fair to expect her to drop everything to be with him? Even though he would give it all up for her, it didn’t make it right. He was an adult and she had yet to experience life. But God help him, he loved her.
~*~*~*~
“I’m worried about one of our students, Father,” Sister Margaret said over lunch.
“Oh? Which one is that?” Father William asked, barely picking at his food.
“Buffy Summers.”
William cleared his throat and smiled at the nun to his left who had been studying his expression for a while. “I see. Is everything all right?”
“It seems that she’s suffering from some sort of depression. Her grades are slipping and she’s not been her usual cheerful self. A few of her friends that share a room with her mentioned that she’s been crying frequently. I’m worried about her health.”
William’s jaw clenched and he closed his eyes momentarily. This was not what he wanted to be hearing at the moment. His guilt was already eating away at him. “Any idea what seems to be the matter with her?”
“No,” Sister Margaret sighed dejectedly. “But I’m afraid she needs some guidance. Perhaps prayer will lift her spirits.”
“Mm,” William uttered. “Yes, maybe.”
“Her parents were phoned last week about it. I wanted to be sure that there wasn’t something that could be done on their part. Forgive me for speaking so, but they didn’t seem concerned for her welfare in the slightest. Even when I mentioned that she’s been skipping meals.”
“She’s…” William swallowed and grew pale. This was much worse than he thought. “Have you questioned her friends? Has she mentioned anything that’s been upsetting her?”
“Yes, but none of them have been very forthcoming with the information. She may share a room with them but Buffy has always kept to herself. I’m afraid to mention that her parents won’t be receiving her for the holiday.”
“What? But that’s…where is she going to go? Who’s going to take care of her?”
“Well, she’s more than welcome to stay here, but I’ve yet to break the news to her. Her parents will be in Paris until February.”
William sighed and threw his napkin on the table. “Let me sort this out, Sister Margaret. I may have been too hard on her in the past but we’ve…developed a certain understanding over the past couple of months. Perhaps I can reach her.”
“I hoped you would, Father. Thank you.”
“Bless you, Sister.” William stood and exited the small dining room in search of Buffy.
~*~*~*~
She was sitting at a stone table in the courtyard, eating an orange and reading a magazine. William turned the collar of his pea coat upwards to ward off the chilly wind that blew through the atrium. Buffy seemed unaffected by the cold however, wearing only a light v-neck sweater over her white oxford, a plaid skirt and white knee socks. He inhaled deeply and closed the distance between them, braving the opportunity to sit next to her on the bench. Her back stiffened when she saw him and William lowered his eyes.
“We need to talk, Buffy.”
She swallowed her orange wedge and closed her magazine, folding her arms in her lap and stared at the table. “Ok.”
“Is that all you’re going to eat today?”
“I had breakfast.”
“What did you have for breakfast?”
“Why do you care?” she asked, raising her voice slightly.
His pained expression caused her to soften and she turned away again. “Sister Margaret tells me that you are skipping meals, that your grades are slipping and that you’ve been…that you’ve been crying.”
Buffy’s jaw ticked and she pursed her lips. “Sister Margaret should mind her own business.”
“Buffy…”
“Don’t,” she put her hand up to stop him and started to stand but he placed his hand on her knee and pleaded with her. The contact sent shivers up her spine in remembrance and she almost cried.
“Please, sit down. Please.”
She sighed. “You haven’t said a word to me in two weeks.”
“I know.” William shivered slightly as another gust of wind blasted against them. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you? Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”
“I’m sorry for not being able to control myself around you, for allowing this to happen between us. I’m sorry that you’re sad and I’m mostly sorry that I can’t offer you anything more than that.”
Buffy let out a puff of air and nodded. “Well, I guess that’s the difference between you and me.”
He tilted his head. “What’s that?”
“I’m not sorry for any of it. Yes, I’m sad and yes it hurts but…having had you at all is worth all of this pain.”
William’s heart clenched at her words and without thinking he took her hands in his. His voice was strained with emotion as he said, “I’ve missed you.”
“I know.”
“No…you don’t.”
“Then tell me.”
“I ended it because…” He looked upwards and let out a hard sigh. “Because this is wrong. You have your whole life ahead of you and it would be selfish of me to ask you to stay with me. Selfish because God help me, Buffy…I can’t stop thinking about you. I either have all of you or nothing and I couldn’t live with myself if you resented me for it later.”
They were silent for long moments, Buffy relishing the feel of his warm hands in hers, stroking her knuckles needlessly. Neither seemed to care how it might look to an outsider.
“Your parents aren’t coming to get you for the holidays.”
Buffy didn’t seem surprised by this. “Looks like I get to spend quality time with the nuns again this year.” She laughed humorlessly.
“Or,” he said squeezing her hands to get her to look at him. She smiled at the boyish grin on his face, missing that expression above all others. “You can spend the holidays with me.”
“What? You want me to…”
“It won’t be anything festive, but I booked a hotel downtown. Wanted to see some shows, relax, sleep in a big bed for a change.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Could be fun.”
“You really want me to come with you?”
“Yes,” he nodded emphatically.
“Are you sure you know how to have a good time? You are ancient.”
“Hey!” he shouted playfully as he stood up from the table, “Easy, kitten. You start makin’ insults like that and you’ll be sorry.”
“I hope so,” she teased. They smiled at one another and looked away bashfully, almost laughing at how much better they felt having lifted the weight off of them. He walked her back inside, confident that he’d made the right choice. Even if she couldn’t commit to him, couldn’t give herself fully, at least he had her now. He was a fool to think he could go without her in any capacity. Perhaps some time away from the doom and gloom of God’s Holy Vessel would do them some good. And if it didn’t, at least he tried, at least he had a taste of a normal life, even once.